


Noah's problem

by goingvintage



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingvintage/pseuds/goingvintage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the holiday season and Noah Puckerman has an addiction, a problem, a dirty little secret, and he's terrified Rachel will find out. A short, fluffy, happy one-shot for the holiday season!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noah's problem

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note 1: Based on a PM I got on ff.net (which I didn't respond to because it was basically ridiculous), I'm posting a disclaimer - this is fanfiction. These characters are not actually real. And I, in no way, mean to demean Noah's Jewish heritage (because, let's face it, he's not really much of a practicing Jew so I can't classify it as faith) by writing this story. Also, if you are offended by Noah enjoying things related to Christmas, you probably have too much time on your hands because, again, he's not a real, living person. 
> 
> Author's Note 2 - aka The Author's Note that I really want to have here, unlike the one above: I just moved into my new house four weeks ago (in beautiful Port Orchard, Washington) and I'm starting to prepare for the holidays, so I was inspired to write this. (Plus, my muse is back from a very LONG vacation and I always love writing Puckleberry when my muse is cooperating!) Happy holidays!

Noah Puckerman prided himself on being a stealthy motherfucker. If he needed to hide shit, he could get it done. Hell, it had taken Ma four years to figure out that he kept a mini-fridge full of beer behind that little trapdoor that led to the attic. The screeching she did had been painful, but the previous four years of ice cold Natty Lights whenever he'd wanted them had totally been worth it.

He liked to think he'd grown up since those days. He wasn't exactly a dumbass teenager with a stupid 'hawk anymore. Gone were the days of fucking around and screwing off and lying and cheating. He didn't go by his old nickname, Puck, anymore. He had a job, one that required him to wear an actual suit most of the time. He even had a Roth IRA, for fuck's sake. But still, every once in a while, he liked to take a little "me" time and indulge himself. As long as he called it an indulgence, he didn't have to admit that it was really an addiction.

It all started innocently enough, the way many addictions do. Just a bit here, and a little more there. If anyone found out and asked him about it, he'd tell them that the holidays were stressful, what with his little sister six months pregnant and refusing to name the father, and his Ma pitching a bitch about it every time he fuckin' answered up the phone. Every time he indulged, he'd promise himself that this time would be the last… just a little bit to take the edge off. That wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

Noah hated that he was always looking over his shoulder to make sure no one could see him as he wandered into those aisles in Target. He could practically feel the recrimination pouring off his mother if she were to find out. Since he was so damn smooth, it was usually easy to slide into one of the aisles and grab one or two things off the shelf, which he'd tuck under the towels or tampons or whatever the fuck Rachel had sent him to the store to get this time. And after he'd left the check-out but before he got on the subway to take the train back to their fourth floor walk-up in Brooklyn, he'd sort out the bags to make sure Rachel's shit was in one and his stuff was in another so he could easily hide in the closet of his music room. Nobody had to know.

The fact was, Noah Puckerman was 26 years old, had a career, a gorgeous fiancé that he'd been in love with since he was seventeen, and an awesome apartment in Brooklyn. He also had a slight, tiny addiction to all things related to Christmas, and his Jewish fiancé and mother would _never_ understand.

* * *

Rachel had spent three hours telling him about all her plans for the big Hanukkah dinner they hosted every year, and he'd only been halfway paying attention. Five days after Thanksgiving, the Christmas season was in full swing. Christmas lights were going up all over their neighborhood in Brooklyn. The neighbors across the hall had a big, animatronic Santa shoved in the corner outside their door, and every single time Noah stepped into the hallway, the big fucker yelled "ho, ho, ho" at him. The first time, after he almost pissed his pants, he couldn't help but laugh. Now, he looked forward to the fat, motion-activated asshole calling out to him whenever he left. These Christmas, people, man – where did they come up with this shit?

"Noah?" Rachel's snapping fingers an inch from his nose made him jerk his eyes away from ESPN (he really wanted to be watching Hallmark channel with their new Christmas movies every damn night) and stare up at her. "Are you listening?"

Reaching out, he snaked a large palm around her waist to settle against her hip. She was flouncing around the apartment in boy shorts since it was almost bedtime, and her cute, tight little ass was even more distracting than the fact that there was a new movie with Lacey Chabert airing right then and he was missing it.

"I'm listening, babe. Okay… no, I'm not. What'd you say again?"

She gave him _that_ look, but then she curled her fingers around the back of his neck as she stepped in between his knees, and leaned in close. "I asked if you were okay with the fact that your mom is flying out the last two weeks of December? She's going to miss the Hanukkah dinner this year, which is semi-tragic and hopefully won't become a tradition since our dinners are an epic event and the pinnacle of the Jewish holiday, but at least we'll get some quiet time to spend with Dad and Daddy that way. I'm going to enjoy every second of my time off before our rehearsals start in January." Leaning in even closer, Rachel nuzzled her lips against his neck. His arms slid around her back and slipped inside her shorts just as she inhaled deeply, which he knew was a sign that she was horny. She always sniffed him when she was turned on. Her voice was a little rough when she asked, "Ready to come to bed?"

Noah was off that couch and toeing out of his shoes in two seconds flat. The one thing he cared more about than Christmas movies starring a lovelorn Lacey Chabert? Rachel Berry's naked _everything_.

* * *

On Tuesday, Rachel was out doing who-the-fuck-knows with Kurt and said she wouldn't be back until dinner, so Noah headed into his music room and opened up the closet in the corner. Guilt and shame washed over him as he stared down at the three-foot-tall Christmas tree sitting in the center of the space. Still, he was determined to get it decorated while Rachel was out, so he ripped open the package of multi-colored mini lights and wrapped them around the tree. Next came this ornaments, which were tiny versions of the characters from that kickass Claymation _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ movie from the 60s. He stacked all the packaging into a neat pile so that he could wrap it all up in a black plastic bag and hide it later, and then he grabbed the cool, sparkly star that he planned to put on top.

Once the tree was decorated, Noah grabbed an extension cord and plugged in the lights. The tree lit up, shining and illuminating the small closet brilliantly. Even though it was kind of a shitty decorating job (nowhere near the cool shit at Macy's, which he totally checked out the day before during his lunch break), a warm, happy feeling settled in his chest as he sat down in his desk chair and started at the tree. Even then, though, he couldn't help but remind himself that he was a _terrible_ Jew.

* * *

Rachel, on the other hand, was a perfect Jew. While she'd dabbled in Christmas stuff in high school to appease Finn and Mr. Schue, she'd taken her Jewish heritage and faith pretty seriously since they'd gotten together. Every year since, she'd gotten more and more into Hanukkah until now, when their apartment was an explosion of blue and silver. It felt _kinda_ like Christmas lights, only with less colors (and an empty spot in front of the window where a tree would look awesome), and she always gave the most perfect gifts. On the first night, she had given him a guitar pick punch so he could make picks out of any-fucking-thing, and he'd given her a cool necklace he'd found at Pandora. The second night she'd given him Beats headphones, and the third night he got cool drill set. By the fourth night, his excitement over his woman's excellent taste in gifts had taken his Christmas obsession down from a Defcon 1 to, like, a Decfon 3.75. Hanukkah wasn't that bad.

Noah was lying in bed, pretending to read the sports updates on his iPad but really waiting for Rachel to come out of the bathroom and show off the gauzy, slutty little pink nighty he'd just given an hour before. When the bathroom door opened, he turned the device off and dropped it on the nightstand, totally forgotten, because the nightgown was even sheerer than he thought it would be and he could see Rachel's nipples through the fabric, and they were pointy, hard, and practically begging for his tongue.

"C'mere, baby," he urged.

Rachel smiled as she padded across the lush carpet and, just before she slipped into bed, Noah remembered that the penthouse across the street now had wild, flashy Christmas lights that were clearly visible from their bedroom window. He hopped out of bed and pushed the curtains open, smiling to himself at the twinkling lights across the street. When he turned back around and realized that Rachel's skin seemed to sparkle from the combination of her body powder and the lights, he grew harder than he'd been ten seconds before. She was fuckin' beautiful all the time, but add some Christmas lights? _Good goddamn._

* * *

He was a lying bastard. On a snowy Saturday afternoon, Noah had told Rachel that he was heading to the gym for a serious workout, but he'd ended up at the AMC theater down the street for a special showing of Elf. It was in his top three list of favorite Christmas movies, so an afternoon laughing his ass off at Will Ferrell in tights sounded like the perfect way to feed his Christmas addiction. Topping it off with a huge bucket of popcorn and a box of eggnog flavored candy meant Noah was having a nearly perfect day.

When he was leaving the theater, a chick dressed like an elf handed him a Santa hat and wished him Merry Christmas. Noah held the plush hat between his fingers and squeezed, noticing the softness of the stupid hat. He thought about throwing it away. What would he do with a stupid Santa hat, anyway? What if Rachel found it? Even though his fingers itched to toss it in the trash in an act of self-preservation, he balled it up and shoved it down into his inside jacket pocket. He felt dirty all the way home, like back in high school when he was cheating on Santana with Quinn and had to hide a pair of Quinn's panties underneath his mattress so that Santana wouldn't find them and rip off his nuts.

As he hummed "All I Want for Christmas" as he walked up the stairs, he wondered if he should see somebody about his problem. Maybe there was a condition out there that caused Jews to really dig the Christmas season? He wouldn't know if he didn't ask.

* * *

"Noah, can we spend some time together tonight?"

Looking up from his guitar, Noah shot a quick glance at the closet door to make sure it was closed, his dirty little, multi-colored secret hidden. Grinning at Rachel, he sat his guitar down and headed out into the hallway, his hands wrapping around her shoulders to pull her against him. "What do you want to do?" he murmured against her neck. "Because I have a few ideas."

"Later," Rachel promised. "Right now, I want to watch a movie. You game?"

Figuring he was going to have to endure another awful Jennifer Lawrence movie, Noah shrugged as he dropped onto the couch. Rachel grabbed the remote and tucked herself against him, getting situated in his arms and throwing a soft fleece blanket over both of them. When she flipped to the Hallmark channel, Noah's eyebrows shot toward his hairline, his heart rate speeding up. Shit. Did Rachel know?

"There's a new movie on tonight and it stars Jesse Metcalfe. You know how I feel about Jesse Metcalfe!" Rachel smiled over her shoulder at Noah. "Especially when he sings!"

Feigning irritation because seriously, Metcalfe's eyebrows were too fucking perfect to be real, Noah settled in to watch the Christmas movie about a down-on-his-luck Wall Street tycoon who has to go home to save the family farm at Christmas. There were worse ways to spend a Friday night.

* * *

Noah's secret Christmas spirit was shot to shit the second his ma arrived. She plopped her bags down in the guest room and immediately told Rachel that the new wall color was too dark and it made the room depressing. Rachel's happy smile had slipped off her gorgeous face, and Noah wanted to shove his mother right back into a cab and send her back to the airport. He put up with a lot of shit from a lot of people, but sucking the light out of Rachel's eyes was the quickest way to make him hate anyone's fucking ass. "Ma," he cut in, "don't be a yenta. This room is perfect just like it is. If you're gonna bitch, shut your trap."

Rachel beamed at him and his chest tightened with love and all those other stupid emotions he had so wrapped up in her. When she kissed his cheek, whispering that she loved him, he pulled her against him and took her mouth in a rough, dirty kiss that left him half-hard and his mother gaping. All he wanted to do was drag Rachel to the bedroom and strip off her cashmere sweater before sinking between her thighs and burying his face there, but he was stuck entertaining Ma. Fucking holiday season.

For the gentile world, it was the night before Christmas Eve. It was just after 11pm and the apartment was silent. Rachel had passed out after he'd worn her out almost two hours before, a pillow shoved in her mouth so that she didn't alert his ma to the fact that he was nailing his woman down the hall. Noah, however, couldn't sleep. He could hear Ma snoring in the guest room, her growls and grunts so loud that he had to stop himself from banging on the door as he passed. He slipped into his music room and pulled open the closet door. After plugging the lights in, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the twinkling lights of the small tree. Reds, greens, pinks, purples, blues, and yellows all combined into dazzling brilliance that made him want to have a tree big enough to crawl underneath. Like a little kid, he'd stretch out on his back and stare up at the lights. Just the thought made him happy, but not long after the warm feeling settled into his chest, the cold fingers of guilt wrapped around him.

"Fuck," he muttered into his palms. "I've gotta come clean to Rachel."

She'd understand, yeah? She was the most accepting, generous, loving human being alive. She wouldn't nail his balls to the floor, right? It wasn't like he had a secret fetish for goat porn or some gross shit, after all. It was just Christmas. Happy, fuzzy, warm, sugary-sweet, exciting Christmas with its lights and songs sung by the Jackson Five and Bing Crosby and Mariah Carey and all those other musicians he should hate because they weren't badass. Who could be mad when he was just addicted to twinkling lights and songs about sleigh rides in the snow?

His resolve strengthening, Noah vowed that tomorrow, Christmas Eve, he'd come clean to his fiancé. She deserved the truth.

* * *

Even though Noah hadn't slept much, he got up early and ran down to the bakery to get donuts and lattes. When he let himself back into the apartment, he could hear the shower running in the guest room. He found Rachel standing in the kitchen, looking pale as she stared down at the Santa hat that he'd gotten at the movies. He glanced down at the hat and then back at her ashen face before his eyes grew wide. "Oh, shit! That must have fallen out of my pocket." He moved toward Rachel and grabbed her by the shoulders. She raised her eyes to his slowly and he found himself ready to beg as he said, "Baby, I can explain!"

Rachel held up her hand. "I have a confession, Noah. I haven't been truthful with you. In fact, I've been hiding something from you for three weeks and I feel terrible about it."

Ahh, fuck. Noah ran his palm across his hair before glancing at the Santa hat. Even though it was an inanimate object, he swear the fucking thing was laughing at him. "Shit… I haven't either, Rachel. I've… I've gotta tell you something, too."

Rachel glanced at the hat again, a shy, timid smile on her face before she met his eyes. "How about we just say it at the same time? Just get it out there fast and quick, like pulling off a Band-aid?"

Noah nodded and Rachel said, "Okay…1…2…3."

Barreling forward, Noah blurted, "I want to put up a Christmas tree," at the exact same moment that he heard Rachel shout, "I'm pregnant!"

The room tilted on his access. "You're what?" he shouted back.

"A Christmas tree is a great idea!" Rachel clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet as color rushed back into her face. "Let's go out and get one today. There's still plenty of time to get lights and decorations and –"

"—Baby," he cut in, "fuck the Christmas tree. You're pregnant? You're really pregnant? You're not fuckin' kiddin' me?"

Rachel bit her lip, shaking her head. "I've known for three weeks, but I was spotting a little bit and the doctor wanted to watch me closely. I didn't want to tell you about a baby if there wasn't going to be a baby, but things have settled down and the ultrasound was yesterday and everything is fine and you're going to be a daddy!" Rachel's voice rose with every word, and just as she was finishing her sentence, the guest bedroom door opened and his mother started shrieking, having heard every word.

Noah could only smile and wrap his arms around Rachel, his need for a Christmas tree temporarily forgotten.

* * *

Fourteen hours later, his ma was snoring her ass off again while he and Rachel sat piled together in the recliner. In front of them, a seven-foot pine tree stood in front of the window, twinkling with alternating multi-colored and white lights. Rachel had gone all out on the tree, just as she did everything else in life. And because his life wasn't already picture-fucking-perfect, snow was just starting to fall outside the window.

Rachel leaned in and nuzzled his jawline while he softly stroked her thigh with his fingertips.

"Noah," she whispered softly, "I've known for a while."

"About the baby? Yeah, you said."

"No, about your… your little 'problem'." She emphasized the word with air quotes.

"My Christmas thing?"

Rachel giggled. "A couple of weeks ago, I was in your music room making plans for the nursery room because, face it, buddy, your losing that room almost immediately, and I opened up the closet door and there it all was. The Christmas tree, the lights, the DVDs… everything. How long has this been going on?"

Noah sighed. "A while now. I just couldn't help myself. It's those damn lights, baby. They sucked me in like lasers." He eyed her closely. "Are you pissed?"

Rachel smacked his chest. "It's not like you're having an affair or I found a sex doll or something, you idiot. It's a holiday!"

"But not our holiday."

Rachel kissed his neck. "They're all our holidays if they want them to be."

Noah grinned just as Perry Como's voice came through the speakers, crooning about being home for the holidays. "I love you, baby. You're the greatest gift I've ever gotten for any holiday." He slid his hand to her still-flat belly and brushed his lips against her mouth. "Well, now you're tied for first place with this little guy."

Rachel's arms went around him as she straddled his lap. "Let's go to bed," she urged.

"Nope," Noah whispered, "in front of the Christmas tree. It's on my top two list of places to bang you."

Rachel snorted with laughter before smacking him on the back. "Your mother is in the next room!"

Sliding his hand under her thigh, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of metal. The key to the guest room flashed in the Christmas lights and Rachel's grin grew huge as he whispered, "She's locked in, babe, so get naked."

Unwrapping herself from around him, Rachel stood up and lifted her shirt over her head before reaching for him. As he went into her arms, his last coherent thought was that Christmas really was fuckin' awesome.


End file.
